**
"Excuse me."
Vicki turned the dial on her iPod in an attempt to ignore the intruder. She was in her zone right now, creating an abyss of blacks and grays on the canvas before her. She was finally inspired and nobody was about to interrupt her.
"Excuse me!" the voice bellowed again, and Vicki could no longer ignore it.
"What do you want?" she griped as she tore the earbuds from her ears. She took a few steps down the ladder, and turned to see who was bothering her. Expecting it to be one of the new interns, she was surprised when she was met with a nervous, questioning stare. "Oh, I'm sorry, thought you were someone else."
"It's not a problem. I'm just wondering if you know where I can find Jack Westin? I'm supposed to be meeting with him at 1:30 and he's not in his office." The man asked cautiously, clearly taken aback by her rude welcome.
Vicki studied the man carefully. He came across as quiet and unassuming, and she felt bad she had been so rude to him. His tweed newsboy cap was low over his eyes, but she could still see how blue his eyes looked beneath the brim. A few gray hairs sprouted from his temples, contrasting with his otherwise dark hair. When she realized she was staring, she quickly stumbled to answer his question.
"Um, Jack. He's uh...I think he's still at lunch. Actually, I think he told me he had some kind of meeting over on 43rd at 2:00, so I don't think he'll be back."
"Oh," he scratched his head thoughtfully. "Um, I don't think I mixed up the date..."
Vicki sighed deeply and set her paintbrush down on the stage. "I'm sure you didn't. He just fired his assistant the other week because she kept fucking up his schedule. Believe me, I'm sure it is not your mistake. Let's head back to his office, and I'll give him a call."
"Thanks, I really appreciate it. I hate to be any trouble."
"No, yeah, I mean, sorry. For the rude welcome I mean. I was kind of in my zone and I thought you were the annoying new intern," she said as they headed to the back of the theater.
"Oh, it's OK. I saw your painting. What are you working on?"
"It's a backdrop for the next production. I'm trying to do this abstract, dark and brooding thing. Not really working."
"Mmm, yeah, you're right. The color scheme is intriguing but it is missing something. There's no...feeling in it. No passion. Granted I don't know what the production is..."
Vicki stopped in her tracks and immediately turned to him. She had been telling Jack for weeks that she wasn't happy with it, yet he kept praising her work. If this guy had the same opinion as her after seeing the painting for a second, there was no way it would work as an effective backdrop. Her set design would get murdered in the reviews.
"Who are you?" She asked abruptly.
He chuckled at her reaction. "I'm JC. Um, Chasez. Sorry, didn't mean to offend you."
"Wait, what?!" she exclaimed, recognizing his name. Throwing all manners aside, she tore the hat from his head and took a good look at him. "Shit!" She exclaimed. She studied the hat in her hands and realized what she had done. "Uh, sorry," she mumbled and handed his hat back to him nervously. "I just, um, I've been a fan and I can't believe I didn't recognize you."
"Not a problem."
"And I was just surprised that you agree with me on my piece. It's crap. I've been fighting with Jack about it forever but he loves it. The Times is going to rip me a new one when they see it though...," she couldn't help but have a nervous blush on her cheeks as she spoke. "So what on earth are you doing meeting with Jack, anyway?"
"One of my friends hooked me up with him actually. I've been working on this rock opera idea, and Jack has actually expressed some interest."
"Jack doesn't do musicals," Vicki blurted without thinking.
JC couldn't hide the surprise in his eyes. "Oh," he began softly.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what has gotten into me. That's not to say he won't do musicals, I've just never seen him interested in any. I'm just....wow. Verbal diarrhea right now. Please don't listen to a word I say."
They entered Jack's office and Vicki quickly dialed Jack's number, as to avoid making any more stupid comments. "Hey Jack, it's Vicki. I'm here with JC Chasez, says he had a meeting with you at 1:30?" Vicki grimaced as Jack spouted obscenities directed at his former assistant. "Um, hold on, let me ask." She covered the receiver with her palm and turned to JC. "Any chance you can meet with him later this afternoon? Like 3:30?"
"I have another appointment, but I'm around tomorrow. Does that work?"
"Jack? How about tomorrow? Yeah, anytime. OK, sounds good." Vicki hung up the phone and turned to JC. "Jack is extremely sorry. He feels awful."
"Nah, not a huge deal. I'll just come back tomorrow."
"Yeah, he said 11:00 would work, and then he wants to take you out for lunch to apologize."
JC smiled. "Well then sounds like I'm getting the better end of the deal."
Vicki smiled back, unable to believe how cool he was being about it all - happy to see he wasn't having some kind of celebrity-style diva fit.
"Look, I just want to apologize for how rude I have been to you. I was just caught off guard. It's not every day you end up meeting someone you're a fan of, especially in such circumstances."
"Not a problem at all, Vicki. I totally understand." She grinned at him using her name without her introducing herself. "Actually, I think I might be a fan myself. I know it seemed I didn't like your work, but it has a lot of potential. I'd love you see more, if you'd let me."
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah. What are your plans for tonight? Will you be around?"
"Just planning on working in my studio."
"Mind if I stop by?"
Her eyes widened in response. "Um, no, of course not. I'd, uh...I'd love to show you my stuff."
"Perfect. I have this dinner thing but will stop by after?"
"Sure, um, let me give you my number." She scribbled her number on a nearby Post-it. "Just call and I'll give you directions from wherever you are coming from."
"Great, I'll see you later then. Have a good one."
"You too, JC." She waited a good five minutes until she was assured that JC had left the theater before she let out a squeal of excitement. How this had happened was beyond her comprehension, but she wasn't going to question it. All she knew is that she had to get to her studio and make sure her best pieces were on display.
**
She paced her studio frantically, trying to make sure that everything was in order and casually checking her reflection in the window. She had hung up with JC a few minutes ago and he was on his way over right now. Sighing exasperatedly, she tucked a chunk of dark hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear. Even after his phone call it was impossible to believe that he was coming over to look at her art. She had been a fan of his for years, and the day had been blissful enough just having met him, but having him say he was a fan of her work - she was speechless. Vicki wasn't quite sure how she'd be able function in his presence.
She didn't have much time to ponder the thought, because moments later the buzzer sounded. Vicki stood still for a moment, not wanting him to think she was standing right by the buzzer. She leisurely walked to the intercom.
"Hello?" she questioned coolly.
"Hi, Vicki? It's me, um, JC?"
She couldn't help but smile at his awkward introduction. "OK, come right up." She buzzed him in and took a deep breath, quickly tucking her hair behind her ears once again, and playing with the hem of her shirt. He knocked soundly and a hand flew to her heart. She chided herself for being so on edge and took a deep breath. "Well, this is it," she muttered to herself while yanking open the industrial sliding door.
"Hey," he said with a shy smile and stepped through the threshold of the door.
"Wow this is an awesome studio. Check out those windows! I bet you get a ton of light during the day."
"Yeah, I do. Pretty rare for a New York studio. I'm lucky this building isn't in the shadow of a taller building."
"How did you manage to find this place?"
"Well it is Jack's really. He just let's me work here when I'm in New York for the summers. I'm only a poor college student; I could never afford a place like this."
"Oh yeah? Where do you go to school?"
"RISD." He gave her a questioning stare. "The Rhode Island School of Design."
"Oh duh, yeah, I've heard of that. Wow, that's a great school!"
"Thanks, one more year to go."
"And then what?"
"Then I'm not sure exactly. Not working as a set designer, that I know." Vicki could tell by his confused expression that he wanted further explanation. "Its' just that I've been interning for Jack since I was 13 - he's my dad's best friend - and every summer since I've stayed with his family in New York and helped in the theater. I just really want to take some time off to travel the country, paint what I see. I have enough money saved up for something like that. I just...I just need a year off to do nothing. That's all."
"That's understandable." He paced around the studio taking in her art, stopping in front of a canvas covered in rich pinks and oranges. The tops of evergreen trees protruded from the bottom of the painting. It was Vicki's favorite. She painted it from a photo taken on a Sunday evening drive, when she needed to escape all of the stressors of Providence.
"This yours?"
She couldn't quite read the tone of his voice but it seemed as if he might like it. "Uh, yeah. It is. I just finished it last week actually."
"This is incredible."
"Yeah?" He chuckled. "Yeah! What else do can you show me?"
"Um, this over here is a portrait I did of my dog," she started, while waving carelessly toward a painting of a regal-looking golden retriever. "And those are just some landscapes I did over there."
"Vicki, these are amazing. Seriously, this painting of that bridge in Central Park - I feel like I could just step in it and be there. Everything is amazingly real."
She shrugged in response. "Yeah but, I hate it sometimes you know? I mean, hand me a photo of anything and I can paint it. I'm a great imitator. But coming up with an idea on my own...painting something that isn't already laid out in front of me...that's where I struggle. You saw at the theater," she concluded sounding defeated.
"You just need a little inspiration, that's all."
"Easier said than done," she replied snidely.
"It isn't that hard. You just paint what you feel. I do it sometimes. Paint, I mean."
"Well I don't know what I feel most of the time."
"I don't believe you. Paint something for me. Something abstract."
"Right now!?"
"Yes, I'll watch."
"You're crazy, you know that?" Vicki had no idea what was going on right now, but she was enjoying spending this time with JC, so she was just going to go with it. She pulled a new blank canvas from the cupboard and gathered some paint and brushes. Once her easel was arranged, she turned to him with a pout. "I'm not going to be able to paint with you watching over me."
"You will, just try. I'll help."
She scoffed. "Sure you will. Just stay quiet alright?" She dipped her brush in the black paint before her and brought her hand to the canvas. Unsure of where to start, she gently ran the brush down the right edge of the canvas, barely making a mark. She stood in place for a few moments, soaking it all in - trying to comprehend that she was painting in front of the one man she never thought she'd meet. She sighed and dipped her brush back into the paint. This is exactly what she was trying to explain to him. It was so difficult to express her inspiration. She ran her brush idly over the bottom of the canvas, trying to make it look like she was adding something to the painting, but she had no clue what do to - especially with him watching from a few feet away.
Moments later, Vicki shuddered when she felt JC sneak up behind her. Suddenly his head was on her shoulder and the full length of his body was pressed against her back. Her brush, no longer touching the canvas, dripped a glob of black paint on the floor beneath them. She couldn't control the way her ass instinctively pushed back against him, and he chuckled. She gnawed at her lower lip, trying her best to hold back a moan when his breath tickled her ear. Attempting to keep her cool, she managed to find a strong voice before speaking.
"What are you doing?"
JC wrapped his arms around her and ran his fingers over her stomach. "Helping you."
She gulped. "Helping me what?"
"Paint."
His breath formed a trail down her neck, starting at her ear and running all the way down to her shoulder. His lips never touched her, just blew warm air onto her skin.
Her voice was less steady this time around. "And how exactly is this helping me?"
"You're the one that said it is hard to tap into the feelings for the abstract. So," he paused and ran his hands up her torso, settling them right below her breasts. "Paint what you feel."
Vicki thought she was going to die right there. Could this day get any more bizarre? What had started as a normal day at her internship had ended up with her getting felt up by one of her favorite celebrities? Her mind was reeling and she couldn't stop it. She stood in place, stupefied.
"Why aren't you painting?"
"I, uh...sorry."
She reached a tentative hand back to the canvas and touched the tip of the brush to it. As she did so, JC ran his thumbs over her nipples and she gasped, her hand jerking in surprise. The line she formed was severe and jagged, starting out thick and precise and fading to a soft, faint line when she was running low on paint. He took her wrist in his and dipped the brush in the paint. "Keep painting," he commanded.
Vicki returned her brush to the canvas, and JC returned his attention to her breasts, caressing and kneading as she added harsh strokes on the painting before her. For the first time when trying to paint something abstract she wasn't thinking. JC was right. She was just feeling and all of the excitement she was experiencing, all of the anticipation, was reflected in the image before her.
Snapping in back into the moment, she realized that his hands were now toying with the hem of her shirt. "Lift," he murmured against her neck and she complied. As crazy as this situation was, as much as she should be questioning what what happening, she just couldn't stop it. It was all to surreal and seemingly unstoppable. He tossed her shirt aside and she shivered at the cool air against her skin. He rubbed his hands together quickly, and ran them up her back on the way to her bra clasp, which he undid and tossed to join her shirt. His hands found her breasts once again and his lips finally found her neck. Vicki couldn't hold back a moan of approval and she arched forward, pushing her chest into his hands harder.
"Mmm, you like that, huh?"
"Yes," she hissed.
Paint it."
Her breath hitched as she began to paint furiously, black streaks of varying thickness and angles splattered in frustration across the white canvas. His hands began their descent from her chest down to the button on her jeans and he slid a long finger over her clit. She shuddered, dropped her brush, and leaned her head back to rest on his shoulder. He backed away and removed his hands from her body.
"Why did you stop?" she breathed, and turned to look at him.
"You stopped painting. You stop, I stop."
She glared at him, eyes wide, chest heaving. She knelt down to retrieve her brush, and maintained eye contact with him the whole time. "Fine," she said indignantly. "Then I'll paint."
She slowly turned back to the painting and continued. JC stood behind her and observed for a good five minutes before he touched her again. Swept up in her work, she didn't notice his touch until he had inserted a finger inside of her. Her knees buckled slightly but she kept her cool, managing to focus on her work and not the feelings washing over her.
"Mmm, very good. Look at all the passion flowing through you right now. I don't want to hear you say you suck at abstract paintings ever again." He moved to kneel between her and the easel, hooking her belt loops in her jeans and pulling them to her feet. Her underwear followed.
Now standing before him naked with nothing but a paintbrush in her hand, Vicki looked down at him with nervous eyes. He glanced up at her with a comforting, almost shy, smile. Gently he lifted her left leg and rested it on his shoulder. He looked at her one last time and she nodded, encouraging him to continue. There was nothing that she wanted more. She quaked when his tongue brushed her folds lightly. Looking for leverage so she didn't fall over, she buried a hand in his thick hair. He growled in pain and thrust his tongue into her, encouraged by her heavy pants and quiet moaning. "You better be painting."
"I am painting," she moaned and quickly returned her brush to the canvas. Her mind was reeling and she could hardly stand. She was wobbly on her right leg, but she was trying do do everything physically possible to stay standing. What he was doing to her right now was heaven, and she was damned she was going to let him stop.
Replacing his tongue with a finger, he pulled away from her and blew gently on her. "OK Vicki, I'd say our art lesson is over for the day. Come join me down here."
She sank to her knees immediately and brought her mouth to his in the most sensual kiss she knew she'd ever experience. His fingers and mouth on the most private areas of her body had been amazing, but it didn't even come close to the feeling surging through her at the moment. He caught her bottom lip between his teeth and ran his tongue over it as slowly as possible. His hands found her breasts and he massaged them gently, and she didn't even try to bite back a moan.
As he trailed his mouth down her neck, she removed his hands from her breasts and raised them up, lifting off his shirt and tossing it in a pile with her garments. As much as she was trying to take this slow, it had gone on long enough. Lifting his chin so his mouth could meet hers, she kissed him quickly before biting his earlobe and demanding, "fuck me."
JC didn't need to be told twice. Before her brain could register what was happening, he was standing before her kicking his jeans and underwear to their growing heap of clothing. She rose up on her knees and in one swift movement, took him deep in her mouth. Her mind was racing. She wasn't sure what had come over her - she usually hated giving head - but he just looked so beautiful and vulnerable standing before her. She worked him eagerly, his soft moans and firm grip in her hair encouraging her to continue.
Finally, as her jaw began to tire, she pulled away and stood up before him. Without saying a word he lifted her up and set her on the edge of the work table. He wasted no time before he buried himself inside of her, alternating between fast and slow thrusts. Not wanting to be a passive recipient, she locked her feet behind his back and met each thrust with vigor. She pulled his mouth to hers in an unrelenting kiss and bit down on his bottom lip. He growled in approval and pushed her so she was laying back on the table, then hooked his arms behind her knees and yanked her forward. Pulling her legs up over his shoulders, he continued to thrust furiously and her back scraped against the tabletop. It hurt, and it would leave a mark, but right now she was focused on one thing and it wasn't the inevitable table burn.
"Ah shit, girl, do that one more time and I'm going to lose it right now," he panted when she flexed her muscles around him.
"You won't. I know you have more stamina than that."
"Oh you do, do you?" He asked and pounded her harder.
"Ugh, mmm, ya...yessss," she hissed, barely able to form words at all. She squeezed her muscles again to test him. With angry grunt he pulled out and commanded her to get on her knees. Normally when guys told her what to do she would tell them to go fuck themselves, but she had been waiting her whole life to do what he had just demanded. So she did it without a fight, even though the cement floor was cold and hard beneath her. What were a few bruises, really?
He took his place behind her and with one rough lunge, he was deeper than anyone had been before. Her head was spinning and her body took on a life of its own - eagerly pushing back against him. His hand were all over her, caressing her back, flicking her clit, palming her breasts, before finally grabbing a fist full of hair and yanking her head back. He lapped at the curve of her neck and slowed his pace.
"I hope you don't mind my teaching methods," his sultry voice echoing in her ear.
"Are you kidding? I wish all of my teachers were this," she flexed, "hands on." She pushed herself against him roughly, taking the lead away from him. They remained that way for awhile - Vicki as the one doing the work while JC guided her against him. However after a few minutes he could no longer sit back passively, and he resumed his assault on her. The bodies mashed against each other furiously and when he reached around to rub her above the spot where they were joined, Vicki screamed, not caring if everyone in the building heard her. JC thrust a few more times, and bit her shoulder as he came.
Vicki had no idea how long they lay together, breathing as one, on the concrete floor. She gradually became aware of the light sheen of sweat covering her, and knew that JC must be cold as well. She bit her lip, wondering just what to say, when she felt his fingers caress her temple; he brushed aside the hair that clung there. Her brown eyes met his blue ones, and her heart leaped when he smiled at her.
"I like it," he said, glancing up at the painting. "It's... inspired."
Vicki craned her neck to see her finished piece and made a face. "Mmm... no. Still not right." Slowly, she stood and wrapped the drop cloth around her. Selecting a clean brush, she dipped it into the brightest red she could find. With her eyes firmly locked on JC's, she dragged the brush sensuously over the canvas in one bold stroke.
**
She eyed the letter curiously on the walk back from her mailbox. She held in her hand a yellow envelope with no return address, and her information sloppily scrawled across the front. Unable to stave off her eagerness she tore it open, only to find a newspaper clipping inside. She quickly skimmed the article - a review of Jack's latest production. An excited grin washed over her face when she came upon the highlighted section.
Though the play itself was flawed, the simplistic set design by Victoria Reed was stunning. The plain black wall, embellished only with an original abstract composition by Reed herself, embodied the main character completely - with black brush strokes emphasizing his reserved, structured, and disciplined demeanor, yet one simple red curve highlighting his passionate nature that only one woman could unearth. Reed's work was more poignant than the actual production. - New York Times, Oct. 6, 2008
On the verge of tears, she noticed a there was a note stapled to the back of the article.
Vicki,
I figured you were back at school and therefore didn't get to see your rave review. The show itself kind of sucked, but I wasn't paying much attention any way - too busy starting at your - our - painting.
Not sure if you heard, but I finally talked Jack into doing my rock opera. I'll be moving to New York temporarily as we finish the music and start workshops. We're hoping to premiere it next summer, but we'll see. I know you are thinking of retiring from the theater scene, but I'm wondering if you might consider one last set design? For me?
A happy tear fell from her eye and stained JC's note. Her trip around the country would have to wait. For now.
